I Will Always Remember You
by rowdyteacup
Summary: Jane and Lisbon meet while they are still Patrick and Teresa, and neither of them can forget it. That turns out to be a very good thing. AU. Trigger warning for mentions of alcoholism and abuse. Epilogue added. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This date marks the end and the beginning. Happy anniversary.

To celebrate, here is the first chapter of my The Mentalist AU. This story starts with Jane and Lisbon as teenagers and ends (sort of) with their first meeting as adults. Could tie in with the events of Red Dawn if you use your imagination a bit, but whether anything after Red Dawn makes sense with this story will be left to your own interpretation. It is an AU after all.

This story will have four chapters, but as I am not completely done with the second one, and currently being kicked in the butt by my first year at university, I can't promise very regular updates. The third and fourth chapters are completed though, so no need to worry that I will leave you hanging.

 _Trigger warning: Mentions of alcoholism and abuse._

 **Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist or its characters. I am making no profit from this work of fanfiction.**

Teresa Lisbon lets herself into the house. It's early evening and the lights are off. She had to stay at school to work on a project, and has only managed to get home now. The house is dim and quiet.

She steps over the beer bottles in the living room and goes over to her father who is lying on the couch in a peaceful, alcohol-induced sleep. It's the only time he can be described as peaceful. She looks at him for a moment, then turns around and begins to clean up after him, picking the bottles up one by one so that they don't clink together and wake him up. He's not easy to rouse in this state, but it's better to be safe than sorry. She throws the bottles away and then goes to check on her brothers.

"Hey Reese," they greet her softly. All three of them are sitting in Tommy's room. Stan is reading a comic, and Tommy and James are on the floor, playing with a train set.

"It's a train from the future, it travels very quietly so that it won't wake Dad," Tommy explains to Teresa.

She gives him a grateful smile and ruffles his hair affectionately. He ducks out of the way and smooths his hands over his head.

The next day isn't so easy.

Teresa gets home in time to crash-land in the middle of one of her father's rages. He's opening and then slamming cupboard doors, searching for a carefully hidden stash of money that he's now forgotten the location of. And all the time he is yelling, swearing, "Those damn kids must have taken it," and yelling some more.

Teresa moves through the house quickly and goes to find the boys. For once her father barely registers her presence. She finds them huddled in her room, silent and terrified. She grabs a pre-packed backpack that she keeps hidden inside her closet and then hustles her brothers out the back door when their father isn't looking.

They have a place that they go to when he gets like this. They don't always make it there (Teresa sometimes has to wear long sleeves in the middle of summer) but when they do, it is where they feel safe.

~~~

Patrick Jane is walking through the carnival grounds just before one of his shows. It's that beautiful time of night where the sun is setting and stars begin to dot the sky along with the lights on the rides.

Patrick loves this time of day.

He is freer to observe now. It's easier to tail the marks when he can use the gathering darkness as cover. He uses this time to prepare for the show. The ticket-collector stamps the wrists of the people going to see the _Boy Wonder_ , and that's how Patrick knows who to pay attention to and who to ignore in the crowds.

There's a stamped man, bending down to give some cotton candy to a little girl. They're alone and they don't seem to be looking for or waiting for anyone. Patrick notes their interaction; the similarity of their hair colour. _Father and daughter, no wedding ring, divorced or never married, he's probably taken the girl out for the day and so she lives with her mother most of the time..._ The observations and deductions run through his mind automatically. After all, he's been taught how to do this almost from the day he could walk. The man smiles at his child, and as Patrick walks casually by, close to the two of them, he sees that the smile is tinged with sadness. _He misses her._ Patrick adds that last and most important observation to his memory palace and moves on.

~~~

Teresa and her brothers arrive at the field. Their field. It contains a three-walled structure with a roof that must have at one time been a shelter for horses or cows, but became the Lisbon kids' home away from... their house after their mother died and they needed a place to hide sometimes.

An abandoned field with a fairly reasonable shelter has suited them well. At least, that is what is usually here.

Now, as Teresa sweeps her gaze over the field, she sees that the carnival has come to town. They have apparently decided to use her field as their temporary place of residence.

She is slightly annoyed that they don't have the place to themselves, but when she looks down and sees her brothers' faces filled with joy as they take in the scene before them, she relents.

"Can we go, Reese, please?" the three voices clamour for her attention.

She holds up a hand and they quieten down. "First rule?" she asks with mock seriousness.

The boys snap to attention even as wide smiles spread over their faces because they know she's going to allow them to go.

"Always stick together," Stan answers. They all know by now that there is safety in numbers.

"Second rule?"

"Find you if we feel scared or uncomfortable," James replies.

"Third rule?"

"Make wise choices," Tommy laughs.

Teresa digs around in the backpack and finds her own stash of money, earned by babysitting for the neighbours. She hands each of her brothers a note. "Meet me back here in," she glances at her watch. "Two hours. Have fun!" she finishes with a small smile.

The boys run off, cheering, and Teresa watches them disappear into the crowd. She shrugs the backpack onto her shoulders and follows.

~~~

Patrick is walking near the entrance to the carnival when one person catches his eye. She doesn't have a stamp on her wrist, so she's not going to his show – yet. He notices her because she has a backpack and beautiful dark hair and she looks to be about his age. _Is she running away?_ When she looks up, his observations end right there. He finds himself staring into the most gorgeous green eyes that he has ever seen in all seventeen years of his life, and these eyes quickly and effectively shut down the majority of his brain.

His feet carry him towards her seemingly of their own accord, and he is only shaken out of his stupor when her eyes narrow and she takes a step back.

"Hi, welcome to the carnival," he says, his brain switching back on. He puts his hand out to shake hers and gives her a friendly smile. "My name is Patrick Jane."

She eyes him warily; doesn't take the offered hand. _Trust issues_ , he thinks.

"Teresa Lisbon," she replies eventually, apparently deciding to trust him with that much information about her.

"Teresa," he repeats softly, still somewhat awed.

Her name is as beautiful as her eyes, and everything about her has instantaneously and absolutely captivated him.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** First lesson about writing fanfiction learned – never post anything unless the entire story is complete. I humbly apologise for taking so long to post the next chapter of this story, and I hope that this extra-long one will make up for that. Thanks for reading!

 _Trigger warning: Mentions of abuse._

 **The usual disclaimer applies.**

Teresa is immediately suspicious of the blond-haired boy who comes up to her and looks as though he would keep walking right through her if she doesn't do something. The vacant look in his eyes, even though it is only there briefly, makes her tread with caution.

His expression quickly changes when she moves to put some distance between them, and Teresa finds herself drawn to his open, kind smile.

She still won't shake his hand.

But as he continues to gaze at her like she is the most important creature in the world to him at that moment, she decides that yes, his blue eyes really are quite gorgeous. And his hair does look tousled and unkempt in the most attractive way.

She tells him her name and can't stop the thrill that runs through her at the way he looks at her then.

She's never felt like this about a boy before; especially not one she has just met. But there is something about Patrick Jane that intrigues her and makes her think that it might be worth getting to know him better.

Patrick moves to her side and motions towards the carnival in front of them. "Would you like to go on a tour? I can show you all the best rides."

Teresa thinks about this for a second.

"Okay," she answers, figuring that if things get weird, she is quite capable of kicking his ass and getting herself out of the situation.

"Don't worry, you're under no obligation to go with me," he says, seeming to read her thoughts.

"No it's okay, I want to," she replies, somewhat fiercely. She knows when she is being offered a good thing and doesn't want to give this up. The carnival looks like it could be a welcome distraction from her everyday life. Why not allow herself to take a risk, to have fun, for once? Her decision to accept Patrick's offer has absolutely nothing to do with the growing attraction she is feeling towards him. Absolutely nothing at all.

"Great, let's go."

 *******

They walk through the carnival and initially Teresa is a little tense, wondering if she made the right decision in going with Patrick, who is for all intents and purposes, a stranger.

But soon she finds herself relaxing and she starts to enjoy his company.

He certainly is entertaining. He shows her which games are difficult and when she immediately wants to give them a try, he shows her the secret to winning. He makes jokes and tells her stories about the people around them based on his observations and while she has no way of knowing whether what he is telling her is true, she enjoys listening to him talk about their lives. It intrigues her, almost as much as he does.

 *******

When they finish the tour of the carnival, Patrick buys two ice creams, despite Teresa's insistence that she would pay for hers herself. They sit on a nearby bench to eat.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Patrick realises with a jolt that his show is starting in ten minutes. He downs the rest of his ice cream in one gulp and looks over at Teresa.

"Listen, would you like to come to my show now?"

She glances at her watch and jumps. "I have to go back to meet my brothers now; I didn't realise how late it's gotten."

She seems a bit panicked that she lost track of time, so he quickly gets up, offering a hand to help her off the bench. She takes it without a second thought, and he walks with her to the entrance of the carnival.

Her brothers are all there, in one piece and accounted for. Teresa gives a sigh of relief and turns to Patrick.

"It's late, we have to go home now," she says, somewhat reluctantly. "I'm sorry I can't make it to your show. But thank you, I really appreciate your kindness."

Patrick takes note of the sincerity in her voice, and perhaps a bit of longing in her eyes, and smiles at her.

"It's okay, you can come again some other time. Thank you for your company; it's been a long time since..." he trails off when he sees her brothers watching every move he makes. "It's just been a long time," he finishes. "Goodbye, my lady," he says and gives her a gallant bow.

She rolls her eyes, but he can see the laugh she is trying to control.

She rounds up her brothers and Patrick watches as they walk away, the boys eagerly showing Teresa what they bought or won, and her smile as she replies to their excited chatter.

 _She's amazing_ , he thinks, as his eyes drift down over the back pockets of her jeans. He crosses his fingers in hope.

 *******

When Teresa checks her pockets before throwing her jeans in the washing machine that night, she finds a slightly crumpled piece of paper.

 _The carnival will be here for two weeks. Come again? Warmest regards, Patrick._

She grins and wonders how he managed to get that into her pocket without her noticing. _And what teenager uses the words warmest regards, anyway?_

But, of course, she is going to go back.

 *******

She visits him as much as she can, and in this time they get to know each other. By the eighth day she finds herself telling him a little about her mother's death and her struggles with her father. This is not something that she usually finds easy to talk about, and in fact most of her friends don't know about it. But she feels, for reasons that are unknown to her, that she can trust him.

Patrick guessed most of it already, but he still listens attentively when she speaks. He makes her feel that her words are important because they are uttered by _her_ , regardless of whether he knows what she is going to say or not.

And in turn he tells her about his misgivings about the carnie life; how the tricks have been weighing more heavily on his mind lately than they used to. And that he doesn't know what his future holds, but he that he may not want to spend it with the carnival.

When he opens up, she finds it easier to tell him more about herself. Even so, her words come out hesitant and halting when she finally decides to tell him the details; about taking hits for her brothers and cleaning their wounds when she isn't able to make it in time.

When he hears _that_ he reaches for her immediately, but allows her to make the choice to step into his arms for their first hug. She is floored by his consideration for her feelings, and she carefully returns the embrace. She soon finds herself forgetting her caution and hangs fiercely onto his shoulders, basking in the comfort of his touch.

It is such a change to the sort of touch she is used to.

They both feel a little bereft after they pull away from each other, and from that day onwards they greet each other with hugs; two young souls making up for being starved of the type of touch they've needed to thrive for most of their lives.

 *******

Patrick is fascinated by Teresa.

She captivated him with one look on the day they met, and he is still amazed that such a beautiful, pure being would choose to spend time with someone like him – a carnie boy at the best of times, a conman at the worst.

And yet, she doesn't judge him. She just sits quietly by his side and listens; offers advice now and then that he can see comes from raising her brothers, and somehow that is all he needs. She gives him what his heart has been craving without him even realising it.

For this, he is eternally grateful, and so he ensures that he treats her well.

He is careful when touching her; he uses the money he's saved to buy the things that she likes; and he makes sure that when she's around, she has his full attention. That one is easy.

He also actually takes her advice. Though strong and abusive, if Patrick really put his mind to it, his father would not be able to control him. But a quiet – or sometimes mildly annoyed – word from Teresa is all it takes for him to back off from something he was obsessing over.

And added to all of that is the fact that she is breathtakingly gorgeous. Her eyes still mesmerise him and he finds himself ridiculously happy when he is able to make her smile; because her smile is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

Patrick has unexpectedly found the woman of his dreams, and in a couple of days he has to leave. This thought fills him with sadness, even though he knows that it is inevitable.

If it were up to him, he would pack his things and flee with Teresa. He knows that were it not for her brothers, she would join him.

But her loyalty and love for her family are two of the many things that he loves about her, and so he knows that she is going to stay and he is going to leave and he wishes with everything in him that that would not be the end for them; that he would be able to see her again.

 *******

On the last day Teresa gets to the carnival as the sun is setting. The crowds have dispersed and only the carnie folk remain; each packing up their stations to move to the new destination. The field seems sombre now and the excitement and flurry of activity that was present on the first day has almost disappeared.

When Patrick is finished helping his father, he goes over to Teresa and they walk silently towards the carousel, one of the few rides left that still needs to be dismantled and packed away.

They sit down on the platform amongst the horses and gaze out over the darkening field.

Teresa isn't quite sure what to say to him. This moment feels like an occasion; one where speeches should be said and toasts should be drunk and she should tell Patrick that he has become one of her best friends, but somehow that is exactly why her words have failed her.

She isn't sure how to thank him for what he has given to her over the past two weeks – a listening ear, calming hugs, occasional spurts of humour after she's had a hard day, and a friendship that is more special to her than almost anything. The whole experience has been so different to anything she's ever had before, and her time with Patrick has become infinitely treasured. He, not the field in which they sit, is her safe place now.

He moves a little beside her and then she feels his fingertips brush against the back of her hand where it is resting by her side. She shifts her weight so that she can accept his request; their fingers link up, he squeezes tightly, and she is grateful that he is so good at reading people because it seems that this silence has told him everything she wants him to hear.

 *******

Patrick doesn't know what to say. Words are his job and manipulation is his income but now, seated next to Teresa, the only way that he can express what he means is to hold her hand.

He doesn't want to make their impeding separation any more difficult for either of them by trying to tell her how he feels, or even worse, trying to kiss her. While that idea seems wonderful in his head, in practice it would only serve to break his resolve to let her live her life unencumbered by him.

Because that is what he would be. Teresa is destined for a beautiful house and a dog and something perfect. Whatever her dreams are, she deserves to have them come true. And at this point in his life, Patrick doesn't feel that he would be able to give them to her.

He loves her, and while that makes letting her go one of the most difficult things he's ever done, it also is exactly why he has to.

Patrick is startled out of his thoughts when Teresa pulls something out of her pocket and turns to face him.

"I want to give you something," she says.

"You've already given me so much, darling," he replies, looking into her eyes and trying to thank her for it all.

She blushes slightly at his unexpected use of such an intimate name, but then gives him a shy smile as she lifts his hand and tips something metallic onto his palm. It is warm from the heat of her body and he inspects it eagerly. Gifts are rare in his household.

It is a necklace; an emerald the colour of Teresa's eyes attached to a golden chain. It doesn't do her justice, but it is still beautiful and he appreciates the thought behind it more than she will ever know.

Patrick leans forward to wrap his arms around her and they hold onto each other for their longest embrace yet.

"Thank you, Teresa..." he says eventually, his words slightly muffled by her hair. He takes a deep breath. "I love-"

Her hand comes up to brush his face and her thumb covers his lips, putting an abrupt halt to what he was about to say.

"I know," she answers. "No need to make this harder."

How well she knows him.

 *******

Teresa's steps are slow and heavy as she walks away from the carnival. She turns back once to raise her hand in greeting to Patrick, who waves crazily back, and she smiles at his antics. Her smile is suddenly choked by a sob and she hurries away, not wanting him to see her cry.

She is heartbroken to have to say goodbye to him, but she is grateful – so grateful – to have known him at all.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thank you for all of your lovely responses to the second chapter. I hope you enjoy this one as well.

By the way, I'm sorry for the constant changes in what symbols I use for section breaks. I don't know very much about formatting my story so that FFN is able to display what I want it to, so I just have to try different things till I find one that works. (And what works on one day seems to not necessarily ever work again.) Any advice regarding how to format would be much appreciated.

 **The usual disclaimer applies.**

* * *

 _Fourteen years later_

* * *

Very little shocks Patrick now.

He has lost his family, the most important thing in his life, and everything else pales in comparison.

But when he learns that _Teresa Lisbon_ works for the California Bureau of Investigation, he is absolutely amazed.

And so when he steps through the doors of the CBI, he is still battered and broken, but there is a small piece of hope beginning to form inside of him.

* * *

Teresa feels as though she has been hit by a bus when she hears that she is to meet with Patrick Jane.

 _Patrick Jane._ Her thoughts whirl around in her head as she takes a sip of her coffee. _It's okay, maybe there are two people in the world who have that name_. She laughs quietly to herself. _Doubtful._

She saw the news. Recognized him from the pictures. She knows it's him. And her heart breaks for the boy that she used to know, now a man with an inordinate amount of grief to bear.

She is very much aware that he may no longer be anything like the boy she knew. He has lived a lifetime after knowing her and they may now be so far apart from each other emotionally, spiritually, that any sort of rekindling of the brief friendship they shared is highly improbable.

But she wants so desperately to comfort him; to hold him and be held by him the way they did when he left.

She has spent time wondering why; wondering why it is that she is so fixated on a childhood crush; why she can't just move on. She knows that it is incredibly impractical. It seems so unlike her.

However, the determination that has led to her success as a detective has apparently latched onto one Patrick Jane, and has shown no signs of giving up. That's not to say she hasn't tried, though. She has dated on and off, several times throughout her life, and has occasionally felt that there is the potential for something more with some of the men.

But they have never been quite like Patrick.

So she decides that when she sees him _she is going to run towards him and wrap her arms around him and smother him with kisses..._

She jumps and looks around, as if she is afraid that her thoughts are written above her head and that anyone walking into her office could read them. She decides – really now – that if he doesn't say anything about their past, she won't either. He has so much pain to bear at the moment, anyway. She doesn't want to put anything more on his plate.

* * *

He doesn't say a word.

At first, Teresa is bitterly disappointed. But then she realises that he probably doesn't remember her. And really, what made her think that he would do so in the first place? It's been such a long time since they were together last.

So she sticks to her plan, and acts as though she has never seen him before, no matter how much it hurts.

* * *

After a couple of weeks of working with Teresa, Patrick has had enough of acting like they are strangers.

He remembers her. Of course he does. When she looked up at him he knew exactly whose green eyes he was gazing into, and it gave further life to the spark of hope in his heart.

But he's been afraid. Afraid of trying to be her friend again when he is so broken. He has nothing to offer her. He is no longer the person she knew before. He feels so absolutely unworthy of even being in her company, never mind being her friend, that he hasn't been able to tell her that he knows who she is.

He is also afraid that by reconnecting with Teresa, he will somehow be abandoning Angela and his vow of revenge. He tries to tell himself that he will never give up on his vow, not even if Teresa is in the picture. Most of the time he manages to convince himself that this is true.

But now it's hurting more than it is helping; this silence of his. He knows that she knows. He saw the flicker of recognition in her eyes. And he sees the pain that not being able to talk about it is causing her. The last thing he wants to do is be the reason for another person's pain.

So all that remains is for someone to make the proverbial first move. He'd be happy to be the one to do so, if only he weren't so afraid.

* * *

But then it happens.

He walks by Teresa's office one evening with a cup of tea in his hand and sees her bent over her desk, filling out forms and writing up reports; as usual.

And something inside of him snaps.

There's just something about the way that she is sitting there, being her dedicated and admirable self, being everything that he is not, that makes him realise all of a sudden that her friendship is worth the risk. Of course, he won't be reckless. Not when it comes to Teresa. Never when it comes to her. He will take every necessary precaution – and probably a few unnecessary ones – to protect her from Red John, and from himself and his apparent tendency to destroy the things he loves most. But he wants her friendship; he wants to start rebuilding what they had when they were younger. He doesn't care how long it takes to remove the threat of Red John; for Teresa, he will wait. But he wants to at least _start_.

Patrick shoots a quick glance around the bullpen and is relieved to find it empty. The team has gone home for the night, leaving him and Teresa to themselves. It is just as well. Right now, with thoughts and words weighing on his mind that she needs to hear, he has no desire for an audience.

He turns around and goes back to the break room to make her a cup of coffee. He isn't looking for an excuse to enter her office; he's Patrick Jane, he doesn't need excuses. But the fact that he will arrive bearing her favourite beverage will help to make her a bit more receptive to the fact that he has to talk to her _right now_.

And judging by the way his heart is fluttering around in his chest, he's going to need all the help he can get.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I've decided that this story needs an epilogue, so you can expect one more chapter after this one. Thank you again to everyone for your kind reviews. I appreciate them so much.

 **The usual disclaimer applies.**

* * *

Teresa glances up when she notices movement in her peripheral vision and sees Patrick opening the door to her office, balancing two cups in one hand.

She stands, for once somewhat relieved by the distraction, and goes over to help him. She takes the coffee with a soft "Thanks, Jane."

"I have something I need to talk to you about," he says, sitting down on the couch and cradling the teacup in his hands.

 _Those hands._ Teresa blinks and forces herself to focus on his words. She frowns. "If this is about another complicated scheme to catch a criminal, I don't want to hear it."

Patrick chuckles. "No, not right now. This is much more important."

Teresa raises an eyebrow. He pats the seat next to him and she goes over to it and sits down. She takes a careful sip of her coffee and tries to not let her actions betray the fact that being this close to him gives her a rush so strong she sometimes wonders if she should dial back the caffeine a little. It started all those years ago at the carnival, and since his re-entry into her life, has not abated. If anything, it's grown stronger now that she's realised how much she really wants to be with him.

And she has realised that. She wants to be with this man; this broken, scarred, playful bordering on immature, scheming, manipulative, perfect, _perfect_ man.

She isn't quite sure in what capacity she wants to be _with_ him, but she knows, absolutely, that she doesn't want him to leave her life again. And maybe not right now, but some day, perhaps after the Red John case has been closed, she hopes that she could take another risk to become more than just his friend.

* * *

Patrick stands quickly, takes one last sip of his tea and puts the cup down on the table.

He flops playfully back onto the couch next to Teresa and turns to face her. He reaches towards her, takes her hand and turns it over, an object now lying in it that seems to have appeared out of the blue.

She smiles briefly at the sleight of hand, but then she registers what is lying in her palm and her eyes widen, her face a mixture of disbelief and questioning and the beginnings of hope.

It is the necklace that she gave to him before the carnival left almost fifteen years ago.

"You kept it? Through – during – everything?" Teresa asks, her voice scarcely above a whisper.

"I did. Although, this doesn't mean that I didn't love Angela. On the contrary, I loved her as much as it is possible for a man to love a woman. I allowed myself to keep this necklace because I didn't think I would ever see you again. I had put the attraction that I felt for you aside, but I kept this because I didn't want to forget your friendship. I didn't want to forget you. We only shared that friendship for a short time, but it was one of the most meaningful and special things I have ever experienced."

Teresa feels tears beginning to prick at her eyelids and she blinks hurriedly. Now is not the time to start crying, no matter how long she has been waiting to hear Patrick say those words.

"So you do remember me," she says, her voice shaking a little. She's not sure why she asked, as the fact he has kept the necklace is certainly proof enough of that. She's just struggling to forget how completely indifferent he seemed when they were first reunited.

His eyes soften and he reaches forward to give her a quick hug. "Of course I do, Teresa. I could never forget those beautiful, spell-binding eyes," he says when he pulls away.

She snorts and gives him a playful shove, and then makes sure to put her coffee down at a safe distance away from them. If there are to be sudden hugs from Patrick in her future, she needs to be prepared.

"What? It's true!" he exclaims, pretending to be insulted.

Then his face sobers and he looks at her intently. "But we're straying a little from the point. I came to your office today to ask you something. I know it's probably going to be an odd proposition, and we're going to have to figure out a lot of things as we go along, but... Teresa, when the carnival left I thought I wouldn't ever see you again, and now that I have, everything I felt for you when we first met is coming back. I know I can't promise you very much at this point, and I don't really have much of a plan in mind, but..."

Teresa leans forward and grips his forearms, the necklace still in her hand, now pressed tightly between her fingers and Patrick's jacket. "You're rambling a bit," she says gently, trying not to laugh at this unusual display of nerves.

He smiles. "Sorry. You sort of have that effect on me. Did you know that when I first saw you I almost walked right into you?"

"Yeah, I noticed," she answers drily, but then she gives him a small smile. "What are you trying to say, Patrick?" she asks.

He takes a deep breath. "I know I have a lot of healing to do still, but maybe after Red John we could... pick up where we left off, or get to know each other again; get to know each other better this time."

He stops talking with a somewhat desperate expression in his eyes and there is a moment of silence while Teresa considers his words.

He has pretty much just offered her everything that she could have ever hoped for from him. All she has to do now is accept it.

* * *

"Okay," Teresa answers after a while, and rubs her thumb over the fabric covering his arm.

Patrick realises only then that she never let go of him. He swallows and tries not to dwell on the implications of that fact for too long, as doing so would erase any shred of confidence he has to say what he is going to say next.

"But you're under no obligation to accept; I know that I am not exactly offering you a conventional relationship," he says. He knows that he needs to allow her to not choose him, but he hopes with everything in him that she will.

"No, it's okay, I want to," she says firmly, but then smiles a little. "I've rather surprised myself to be honest; I don't think that this is something I would usually consider doing, but I think that we could have something really special here. I felt that... connection with you when we first met and I still believe that it is something worth exploring further. Besides, I like you."

Here, she pauses and her hands move higher, curling around his upper arms and holding him tightly before she continues.

"The way you are. Patrick, I hope that you won't ever feel like you're not enough for me, because that isn't true. You have always been enough and you still are enough and I want to be your friend. I really do. I know things are not going to be easy, but I want to try. We'll work through this," she motions to the two of them, "whatever _this_ is, together."

When he hears her words, Patrick joins her in a smile so wide it starts to hurt his face. He moves closer and pulls her into his arms. This embrace is far more intimate than the others, but still gentle enough that neither of them need fear that things are moving too quickly.

* * *

Teresa flushes to the roots of her hair after saying what she did and being rewarded by _this_ hug from Patrick. She doesn't know what the future holds for them, but she wants it – and more of these hugs – so badly.

She's just a bit surprised that her longing to be with him has become a possibility so quickly. She had almost resigned herself to the fact that Patrick Jane was a beautiful memory from her past and that he would stay there. Now to find that he is back in her life, vibrantly and vehemently by the looks of things – and that she could work towards a real relationship with him – well, it has just overwhelmed her a little.

But it is the best feeling. She will gladly stay in this state of overwhelming, dizzying happiness for as long as he chooses to be the source of it.

"Are you okay?" Patrick asks gently when he releases her enough to see her face again.

Teresa glances away for a moment, suddenly shy, and then she looks back into his eyes and says, "I'm just really happy."

He grins and reaches up to brush his hand over her cheek. "Me too, my dear."

After a moment he takes the necklace from her fingers and stands up. He goes to the other side of the couch so that he can stand behind her, gently moves her hair away from her neck, and fastens the chain around it. The emerald hangs slightly lower than her cross and she puts her fingers to her chest, feeling both near her heart. She turns to look at Patrick and he drops into a crouch in front of her, his hands resting on her knees.

"Consider this a promise," he says, looking into her eyes. "The one thing that I can promise you right now. I'm giving this back to you because I intend to never permanently leave you again. I don't know where we're going to go from here or how the Red John story will play out. I don't know exactly how we'll go about navigating this... thing between us, but I want to promise you that no matter how long it takes to figure things out, I am not going anywhere. And if I do have to go somewhere, I promise to come back."

Teresa hears his sincerity, and the beauty of what he has just promised makes her heart swell with love for him. When he joins her on the couch again, she curls up into his side and rests her head on his shoulder.

"Promise accepted," she answers quietly.

He finds her hand, laces their fingers together, and they sit in comfortable silence for a while.

Then Patrick speaks again. "I will always remember you, Teresa."

She smiles. "I know."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** This is it, folks, the epilogue to my first AU and first multi-chapter fanfic. I have learned a lot from this experience and I appreciate everyone who has stuck around in spite of my slow updates! Much love to you all.

P.S. I have invented my own ending for Red John here, as I felt that the one from the show wouldn't fit with this story.

 **The usual disclaimer applies.**

Teresa Lisbon sits in her office, finishing up the last of her paperwork. She hasn't seen Patrick for a couple of hours, and hopes that he isn't off causing trouble somewhere. _A bit of a feeble hope that_ , she thinks with a sigh.

Rigsby and Van Pelt left around two hours ago, within minutes of each other, and only Cho remains seated in the bullpen.

All of a sudden, Teresa is overcome by an intense need to check whether Patrick is okay. She tries to shake it off, tells herself that he's fine, but after five minutes she is antsy and starting to panic. She takes a deep breath and gets up, grabbing her gun as an afterthought. _You never know with him..._

When she walks past Cho's desk, something tells her to bring backup.

"Cho, when last did you see Jane?"

"Around one. He said he was going to meet somebody."

Teresa hesitates, wondering if she should bother her co-worker with her suspicions. After all, Jane could have just gone out for lunch and decided to stay late. _Like he ever goes out for lunch_.

Anyway, it is almost seven o' clock. He should be back by now.

"Listen, could you do me a favour?"

"You want me to help you find Jane?" Cho guesses.

Got it in one.

"Yeah. Thanks, Cho."

* * *

They find him in an abandoned house in a half-dead neighbourhood, his arms and legs tightly bound to a chair.

He starts struggling frantically when he sees Teresa and Cho approach. She goes over to him and pulls the duct tape away from his mouth.

"Careful," he gasps desperately, his voice hoarse. "We're not alo-"

"Hello, Teresa," a voice calls out and she instantly knows that this is Red John.

She turns slowly, her gun raised, but she is too late. Two shots ring out within split seconds of each other and one man falls to the ground.

After a moment of stunned silence, Teresa looks around, terrified, as she tries to figure out what happened.

Cho stands with a smoking gun and Red John has crumpled to the floor, his own gun lying next to him.

Patrick watches as the man he has hated and hunted for so long gives one last groan and then goes absolutely still.

"Good thing he was a lousy shot," Cho says, lowering his gun and seeming to be as controlled as always. But the tremble in his voice on the last syllable gives him away.

Teresa recovers herself and quickly loosens Patrick's bonds. She can't think of anything to say to him in this moment; just looks on as he rubs his wrists and walks unsteadily over to the body on the floor.

He crouches down and reaches out with two fingers to check for a pulse.

"It's done," he says, so quietly that they almost don't hear him.

* * *

By the time that all of the red tape relating to the death of Red John has been dealt with, Patrick is long gone.

Teresa tries to look for him but he's covered his tracks as only Patrick Jane knows how and she doesn't see or hear from him for four months.

Even though she has his promise to rely on, the promise that he will always come back, she spends every day of those four months worrying herself sick. Not so much for herself, but for him.

She can't bear the thought of him going completely off the rails again. She's afraid he won't survive that. She's afraid he won't survive _this_. As glad as she is that there is no risk of him going to jail, she knows that it must eat away at him that he was not the one to pull the trigger.

Her fingers have almost made a home out of the space on her chest where her emerald and the cross lies; so often does she rest her hand there when she thinks of him.

* * *

He comes home in the middle of a rainstorm.

Teresa has just added a piece of wood to the fireplace in her living room when she hears a knock at the door. It is so soft she thinks she imagined it, but goes to check anyway.

She opens the door and sees Patrick standing there, his suit rumpled and soaked, but he's apparently none the worse for the wear otherwise.

"Patrick," she half-sobs in relief and throws her arms around him.

"Hi," he answers in her ear, his voice cracking a little.

They cling to each other for a long time and then she realises that he's shivering under her fingertips and it's raining and cold so she pulls him inside and points him in the direction of her couch.

"Make yourself at home," she says softly. "I'll go get some tea."

He barely spares the couch a glance; instead looks at her almost shyly and says "I'd rather stay with you, if that's okay."

And after the hell they've been through the past couple of months, she completely understands – and shares – his desire to not be out of sight. She nods and his hand finds hers, and it seems silly but walking hand-in-hand to the kitchen almost reduces her to tears.

* * *

He notices the tear that tracks a path down her cheek and he stops and pulls her to him.

"You alright?"

"You're back," she answers and holds him tighter.

"Yes, but I wasn't really hoping that you would be crying because of that," he replies, aiming for humour.

That makes her smile. "Idiot," she says affectionately.

"I missed you," he says, his voice again gravelly with emotion.

Her fingernails dig into his back and he almost doesn't hear the heartfelt "I missed you too," that she whispers near his collarbone. Almost.

* * *

They stand and breathe each other in for a few more minutes, and then Patrick says "Tea?" so hopefully that she can't refuse him, and they resume their path to the kitchen.

It is when he has wrapped his hands around the warm teacup that she realises one thing is very clearly absent.

She isn't sure how to approach the topic, so when he finishes his tea, she deliberately brushes his ring finger with her hand when she takes the cup from him, and locks her eyes on his.

He understands.

"It was time," he explains quietly. "What I set out to do is done. Red John is dead and I... I know Angela would have wanted me to move on with my life. I'm ready to do that now."

Teresa puts their cups down in the sink, walks over to him, and when she is two steps away he opens his arms and she falls into his embrace for about the hundredth time that night, whispering "I am so, so proud of you..."

Patrick kisses her forehead in response and then gets up suddenly, guiding her with him, and walks her to the living room.

* * *

She's a little surprised when he pulls her away from her kitchen so abruptly, but she feels it is sometimes easier to trust and just go with him, rather than figure out where he's going or why. It's not like he would tell her, anyway. _Just like old times_.

They sit down on the couch near the fireplace and she gives him a questioning glance.

He smiles and moves closer, his hands reaching forward to wrap around hers.

"Do you remember that one night at the carnival? I think it was maybe two days before I was going to leave; you and I sat by that bonfire and talked about things... This brings back memories," he nods towards the fireplace. "Sometimes I wonder how life would have turned out if I'd done what I wanted to do that night... what I wanted to do again the last night that I saw you," Patrick says.

"Yeah? What was that?"

Her question is spoken quietly, with a half-smile on her face, like she knows the answer but she asks him anyway because she knows he wants to tell her.

"I wanted to kiss you. I want to kiss you. I'm going to kiss you now, if that's okay," he says all in a rush.

"Seriously? This is the one time you choose to ask for permission before you do something?" Teresa laughs and puts her arms around his neck, her fingers tugging slowly through his hair. "It's absolutely okay," she finishes, her eyes shining.

And then they've slipped closed because Patrick's lips are on hers and she can taste tea and _want_ and something that is distinctly _him_ , and when his hands tighten around her waist to pull her against his chest, like he's never going to let her go, it's everything she has ever dreamed of.

* * *

Teresa must know where his kill switch is. It's the only way to explain how she has managed to short-circuit his brain yet again, so that he doesn't think, he just feels.

And does he _feel_.

He's been waiting to do this for so long and now that he is – it makes his head swim. Kissing Teresa is better than anything he could have imagined. It has allowed him to release the last of his doubts about moving on and it's like he's finally found what he was searching for. It's like coming home.

She moans a little under his touch and he pulls away to rest his forehead against hers.

"Don't stop," she says, leaning further into him and trying to claim his lips again.

He halts her movements with a finger to her mouth and whispers, "I just have one more thing to say."

He presses a comforting kiss near her jaw and she waits.

"I love you, Teresa," he says happily, a smile stretching over his face.

She lifts her head to look into his eyes. "I love you too," she answers.

He gazes at her, overwhelmed by what this moment means for them, and then upon seeing her smile, pulls her close and kisses her again.

This time there are no more interruptions and eventually, a long time later, the sound of the rain hitting the roof outside lulls the two kids from the carnival to sleep.


End file.
